


take care

by lianhasu (lianverse)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:20:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25900495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lianverse/pseuds/lianhasu
Summary: Bokuto knows good and well that Akaashi spends a majority of their relationship taking care of him. He only wishes he could give something back in return.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Comments: 24
Kudos: 200





	take care

**Author's Note:**

> this story has been told a thousand times, but i hope you will still indulge me.

Bokuto pulls his eyes away from the screen as the program switches to an advertisement about baby wipes. Akaashi’s bent over the stove, chopsticks in hand. From here, Bokuto can see the way Akaashi’s head is tilted to the side, contemplating. The blue apron around Akaashi’s waist is pulled into a neat bow. The strong salty smell of miso permeates the apartment.

“Almost ready?” Bokuto asks.

“Almost.” Akaashi sets the chopsticks aside and sighs. Patient and quiet as ever. He rolls his head, stretching and releasing the tense muscles in his neck. Bokuto watches Akaashi dig two fingers into the crook between his shoulder and his neck. He rolls his shoulder.

The commercial break ends and the game resumes. Bokuto’s eyes drift back to the TV after lingering for a moment longer on the pink mark Akaashi’s fingers left on his neck.

The ball is served across the net.

Bokuto fixes his mouth along Akaashi’s collarbone. His tongue travels along the length of skin. He turns his head to the right; his tongue finds a spot right at the base of Akaashi’s neck along the line of his shoulder. Bokuto can see in his mind’s eye the purple mark that will blossom under his teeth as he sinks into Akaashi’s skin.

There’s that sigh again, only this time it’s tender, hitched at the end. Akaashi reaches between them and pulls Bokuto closer with a fist in his shirt.

Bokuto’s hands slide down Akaashi’s back. One down, around and up between Akaashi’s shirt and his bare chest. The other presses against the divot of his spine. His palm is wide and hot on Akaashi’s cool skin.

Akaashi stands in the corridor. The sounds of the crowd exiting through the main doors echo down the hall behind him, clambering feet and shrill voices. A door slams. Akaashi looks up from his phone in time to see Bokuto fly at him, arms outstretched.

“Akaashi!” Bokuto’s voice booms on the concrete and tile. “How did you like the game? I did good, right? Did you see my spike at the end of the second set? Set point! I did good, right?”

Akaashi nods, catching Bokuto in time and managing to only stumble back a step or two this time. “I did. You did very well, Bokuto-san.”

Bokuto tucks his nose in Akaashi’s hair. The warmth of Akaashi’s words never fades.

“I’m so glad you came.” He draws back. He finds Akaashi’s eyes, dark and soft.

“Of course.”

Bokuto jerks a thumb over his shoulder, “I told the team I was going to head out with you tonight. Are you hungry? I’m starving!”

Akaashi’s lips twitch up into a small smile. “Yes, I am.”

Bokuto makes for the main doors.

“Bokuto-san.” He turns and Akaashi is holding out his Black Jackals jacket. “You left this at home. It’s cold outside.”

“Oh man! Thanks, Akaashi, I totally forgot!” Bokuto slips on the jacket.

Akaashi reaches forward, fingers straightening out the creases on the corners, fitting the zipper together, and pulling it up to Bokuto’s collar. His eyes are focused somewhere on Bokuto’s throat. Bokuto takes Akaashi’s fingers in his own.

“Ready?”

Akaashi blinks, meets his gaze. “Ready.”

Bokuto is on his knees, pressing Akaashi into the bed with a hand spread over the flat plane of his stomach. Akaashi exhales harshly. His dick twitches against his hip. Bokuto lifts his lips from where he was working on Akaashi’s thigh, leaving behind a trail of red and teeth marks. He takes Akaashi in his mouth. Gentle at first, swirling slowly, then sliding down.

“Bokuto-san.” Akaashi’s voice is tight in the silence.

Bokuto slides down further. The head hits the roof of his mouth.

“ _Bokuto-san_ ,” Akaashi warns.

He feels Akaashi against the back of his throat. His eyes feel a bit wet. He likes it, the way Akaashi’s words give way to moans as he begins to suck and swallow. He is well aware of what it feels like, Akaashi being more skilled than him in oral matters. Anything for Akaashi, it’s the least he can do.

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. Saliva pools on Akaashi’s belly. Bokuto pulls back up, licks around and then sinks back down. Akaashi’s long fingers slip through Bokuto’s hair, cradling his scalp.

“Bokuto-san.” Akaashi sounds soft and pleased.

Bokuto is drunk and smiley. Akaashi’s face is flushed but calm; his eyes are on Bokuto. Hinata is slurring something about Ushijima’s jump height, something about how he’s so close to surpassing Kageyama’s at least. Bokuto laughs, raw and hearty.

“That’s the spirit!” he says over the sounds of the sizzling yakiniku and Sakusa’s pinched voice scolding Miya Atsumu.

“Stop turning over the meat before it’s done on that side!”

“What? Why—”

“The more you touch it with the tongs the more you contaminate it!”

“I don’t think that’s how it works—"

Bokuto nearly topples over in laughter. Everyone is laughing and it’s making him laugh. It’s humid and the air tastes smokey and burnt. When he looks sideways at Akaashi, his face is arranged in polite amusement. Bokuto slings an arm over Akaashi’s shoulders. He doesn’t notice when his breath against Akaashi’s ear causes Akaashi to shiver.

“Hey, Akaashi, did you eat enough? Atsumu contaminated all the beef apparently.”

“I’ve eaten plenty,” Akaashi replies. His fingers close around Bokuto’s wrist. “Bokuto-san, you’re drunk.”

“Oh no! Am I? Maybe I am. I’m drunk, Akaashi,” Bokuto admits, hiding in Akaashi’s neck. “How am I gonna get home?” He groans.

Akaashi thumbs over Bokuto’s knuckles. “I’ll take you home.”

“Really? I get to see Akaashi’s home?”

“We live together, Bokuto-san.”

“We do? We do!” Bokuto shouts in surprise. “You guys! I live with Akaashi now!” Everybody ignores Bokuto.

Hinata giggles, “You’ve been living together for ages now, Bokuto-senpai, did you forget?”

Bokuto glances up in time to watch as Akaashi’s face breaks into a light flush. His mouth falls open with jagged breaths. Bokuto lifts himself up, hovering near Akaashi’s jaw. “What do you want? I’ll give you anything.”

Akaashi grabs his hand and turns to kiss him. “You. I want you.” Bokuto looks down at the lube Akaashi placed in his hand.

“Okay,” Bokuto breathes. “Okay. I can do that.”

Akaashi huffs quietly. “I should hope so. Stretch me now.”

“Okay,” Bokuto repeats. The lube is slippery on his fingers. He spreads Akaashi beneath him on the bed. He’s hot and smooth, giving way under his fingers. Akaashi’s ribcage shudders as Bokuto maneuvers his wrist for a better angle.

“There?”

Akaashi trembles and nods. “There.”

Two fingers become three, carefully stroking right where Akaashi seems to fall apart. Bokuto holds Akaashi together by the hip. Akaashi’s hand fists into the sheets. His eyebrows furrow together and another moan escapes. Bokuto consumes everything Akaashi gives him, every sigh and whine. It isn’t much but he hopes it’s enough.

Bokuto sinks back into their couch. He favors his right knee as he adjusts the pillows behind him. Akaashi re-enters from the bedroom holding something. He kneels on the floor in front of Bokuto’s leg. His fingers tickle Bokuto’s kneecap, then skate down his calf.

“Down here too?”

Bokuto grimaces. “Yeah.”

Akaashi opens the new box of Kinesio tape. He works slowly and carefully. A stripe of neon green along Bokuto’s inner knee, scooping under and around to the outer joint. It pulls against his skin but Akaashi’s fingers rub over it, loosening the strain. Another pair of green streaks running down the back of his calves, joining together at the base of his ankle.

“Try putting some weight on it.”

Bokuto stands up. The swollen tension in his knee is significantly reduced.

“Better?” Akaashi is watching his face with a gentle intensity.

“Much better.” He grins. “Thanks, Akaashi.”

It doesn’t take more than a week for the small sprain to heal itself, thanks to the support provided by the Kinesio tape and strict orders to keep weight off it. Akaashi observes him like a hawk around the house.

Bokuto meets with his trainer the following Tuesday.

“The tape was a good idea,” says the trainer.

Bokuto beams. “Akaashi happened to have tape, how great of a coincidence is that?!”

The trainer lifts an eyebrow and smiles. “Sounds like Akaashi-san takes good care of you.”

Bokuto blinks. “Oh,” he says.

Bokuto finds a condom in the bedside table after some rummaging. He tears it open and rolls it on.

“Let me,” Akaashi pants, sitting up, “I can ride you.”

“No. Not—I don’t _not_ want you to ride me, but let me? Please, Akaashi?”

“But. Your knee.”

“All better! Promise!” Bokuto takes Akaashi’s shoulder and presses it back against the sheets. “Let _me_ , Keiji.”

“But— _ah_.”

Bokuto pushes Akaashi’s legs up with a firm grip underneath his thighs. He slides his hips forward and sinks inside. Akaashi opens around him with grace, slumping back into the mattress. His wavy dark hair falls against the sheets.

Akaashi places a hand on Bokuto’s hip. Bokuto pauses for a moment while Akaashi catches his breath. Akaashi’s fingers tighten and tug forward. Bokuto slides deeper to the hilt. They both groan.

“Good?”

“Good. Move, please.” Bokuto draws back and rolls his hips forward. Akaashi releases a content sigh. Bokuto works up a steady rhythm, pressing Akaashi’s thighs up and apart. The view is stunning, Akaashi splayed out under him and caught in the high of arousal. His hand moves to stroke himself but Bokuto intercepts, taking him into his hand.

He tips forward and strokes in tandem with his thrusts. Akaashi’s hands find themselves clasped behind Bokuto’s neck, head tucked in Bokuto’s sternum as he rocks forward.

“There,” Akaashi murmurs. “Right there. Faster.”

Bokuto feels fingernails scrape his nape. He hastens his pace per Akaashi’s request. Anything for Akaashi. The tension of release coils in his gut. Akaashi tightens around him as he focuses a thumb under the head of his cock.

“I’m—Keiji, I’m—” Bokuto clenches his jaw.

Bokuto shrugs the strap of his sports bag over his shoulder. Miya pats his shoulder where he’s hunched over on the bench. The last locker slams and it’s just the two of them and the frigid air.

“There, there,” Miya pats his shoulder. “It’s not your fault, Bokuto-san.” Bokuto stares at the floor and doesn’t to hear him.

The door opens.

Bokuto tunes out, tracing the concrete between the tiles. His hand still stung from the final spike, stung not from the weight of the ball but from the way it had been effortlessly blocked by the opposing middle blocker. Match point. Black Jackals at the close of their winter season. Thousands of eyes on his back, his jump, his swing.

“Bokuto-san.”

Bokuto looks up. Miya is gone. Akaashi stands in front of him drawn together in a thick black coat and a yellow scarf. “Akaashi.”

“Let’s go home,” Akaashi says.

“But Akaashi…”

Akaashi crouches down so he’s looking up at Bokuto’s dejected face.

“I messed up, Akaashi. Not just a little mess up. A big one. You saw it, you saw how big it was. I messed up.”

“Yes, you messed up.” Bokuto’s bottom lip pushes out and he opens his mouth to speak when Akaashi says, “You’re still their ace, Bokuto-san. Nothing will ever change that.”

Akaashi is looking at him with careful eyes.

Bokuto pauses, searching. Akaashi is not one to say things he doesn’t mean or things he doesn’t believe. Bokuto has never doubted Akaashi’s intentions and this time is no different. Even though Akaashi doesn’t shower him with the compliments his younger self had so eagerly craved, even though Akaashi’s stout veracity burns against his skin, even though Akaashi’s face remains neatly arranged in impassivity. Despite all of that, Bokuto finds in Akaashi’s eyes the comforting warmth of concern. And that, for Bokuto, is enough.

Bokuto leans down and captures Akaashi’s mouth with his own. Sealing their mouths together in a bruising kiss. Akaashi melts into him. Bokuto slows down to concentrate on Akaashi’s tongue. His foot nudges into Bokuto’s lower back.

Akaashi pulls away. His gaze is tumultuous. “Don’t stop, Bokuto-san.”

Bokuto increases his rhythm again, dragging hard and powerful against Akaashi. He scans Akaashi’s face. “Good?”

“Very good,” Akaashi bites out. His fingernails dig back into Bokuto’s shoulders. The sting feels electric.

“I’m close, Keiji, I—”

“Me too.” Akaashi's tone is clipped and wound tight, unlike Bokuto’s frantic groan. Bokuto tightens his hand around Akaashi’s cock, focusing on quick broad strokes.

“ _Keiji_.” Bokuto breaks off into a low moan. The coil snaps and Bokuto’s rhythm is lost in the waves of pleasure that overcome him. Following Bokuto’s choked cry, Akaashi comes, head thrown back and eyes closed and furrowed in concentration. He spills across his stomach and pulses around Bokuto, who lets out another gasp at the sudden grip on his sensitive cock. Bokuto’s hand squeezes Akaashi’s hip. “ _Keiji._ ”

When their breathing settles, Bokuto pulls away and cleans up. Akaashi turns onto his side, inviting. Bokuto slides in behind him, settling an arm over Akaashi’s waist. He presses his lips to Akaashi’s neck, where he notices a bruise has formed. His eyelids feel heavy with exhaustion.

“You must be tired,” says Akaashi.

Bokuto blinks.

“You had a long day today. I thought the game had already worn you out.”

Bokuto doesn’t understand what Akaashi is trying to imply. His brain is moving slowly, wading through the molasses of fatigue.

“Your knee hasn’t fully recovered either. You must have been sore and tired, Bokuto-san.”

His arm tightens against Akaashi’s stomach. His hand splays over his cool skin. His eyes fall closed. “Akaashi.”

“Thank you, Bokuto-san.”

And while Bokuto admits that he doesn’t know many things, he knows for a fact that that Akaashi spends a considerable amount of their relationship taking care of him. He isn’t entirely certain as to why Akaashi is thanking _him_ when he should really be thanking Akaashi, for everything. Because Akaashi has been there since the beginning.

“I love you,” he says instead, on the brink of sleep. He falls into unconsciousness before Akaashi can respond.

And if Akaashi turns around to face Bokuto, to admire the strong lines of his jaw and curvature of his brow, if Akaashi whispers a quiet, “I love you, Koutarou,” enveloped in Bokuto’s arms, and if Akaashi thinks wistfully of the ways he can make up for Bokuto’s overwhelming tenacity to care for Akaashi without even realizing it, nobody has to know.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! 
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/lianverse)


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